Cursed
by fanficoholic
Summary: Being the older sister of the Savior is hard work. Between having to practically raise her, protecting her, and then trying to convince her that she really is a fairytale princess and that she relly does have to save an entire realm from a curse, being queen is going to seem like a cakewalk.
Avery Spencer stalked through the halls, her trench coat billowing behind her. Work was exhausting but luckily she was done for the day and had off for the next week and a half. It was her sister's birthday and Spencer took the time off just to see her. She left the building and quickly made her way to her 67 Mustang. Emma's 28th was for only another 10 hours, and they're be no point in going if she missed the day of. She still had to drive from Virginia to Boston. Spencer threw her bag into the back seat and revved up the engine. Hopefully she'd make it in time.

Once she left the city limits, she grabbed her siren and placed it in the window. She was going to speed anyway, might as well be safe and save herself from getting pulled over. Once she hit the Boston city limits, she glanced at the clock and winced. She quickly dialed her phone.

"Emma! Do not so much as blink," she demanded, before hanging up. Her poor sister probably had no idea what that meant, but honestly the crypticness of her message was probably just enough to make Emma pause until she arrived.

From what she remembered, her sister was supposed to meet her bail jumper victim for a date at six. Considering the amount of time it took to process the fugitive, and how long it would take her sister to get home...which should be now, she barely had time to park. She left her car in front of her sister's building and after kicking off her heels, she raced up the stairs. She grabbed the key, unlocked the door and threw it open, startling Emma into almost dropping her treat. Spencer glanced at her watch and grinned up at Emma.

"Ha!" she cried out, throwing up her hands in victory, "New record!"

Emma bit back a grin, "Uh hi," she said awkwardly.

Spencer smirked, "I am a rockstar," she announced, before launching herself at her little sister, "Come here!"

Emma grunted at the force of the impact, but didn't push her sister away. Spencer was rarely this affectionate so when she did hug her, Emma had to allow it. Spencer's rules.

"Happy Birthday brat," Spencer said affectionately with a smirk, ruffling her sister,s blonde updo, loosening her scarf.

Emma scowled, fixing her hair, "I'm not a brat," she muttered.

Spencer shrugged off her trench coat and made her way towards the kitchen island, "A cupcake?" she asked, opening up the cabinets looking for eating utensils, "That's kinda pathetic Ems."

"Well excuse me for thinking that I was on my own this year, Aves, " Emma sneered and then she sighed, "More would have been a waste."

She pulled a bottle of white wine out of the fridge and grabbed two glasses out of the dish rack. Emma set them down on the island and poured in the alcohol. Once the wine glasses were overly full, she set the bottle down and picked up her's, taking a gulp.

Spencer snorted, "Like I'd leave you alone for your 28th," she scoffed, "I told you I was coming."

Emma kicked off her own pumps, "Well excuse me for not believing you," she said, before screwing up her face in question, "Why is 28 so important anyway?" She settled herself on the bar stool, leaning backwards on the island so that she could keep an eye on her sister.

"It's a family thing," Spencer told her, pulling out two plates.

With that comment, Emma rolled her eyes, "Great," she drawled sarcastically, taking another gulp, "A family thing."

Spencer spun on her heel and pointed a fork at her, "Watch it Swan," she threatened before sitting on her own stool. Emma sighed and twisted in her own seat so that she was facing her sister. Spencer grinned at her, and childishly said, "Now blow out the candle and make a wish!"

Emma looked at her sister strangely, "You're crazy," she told her.

"Oh I know," Spencer nodded, seriously, grabbing her own drink,"It's fun."

Emma sighed again, leaned forward, and closed her eyes, "To another banner year," she mumbled to the candle and just as she blew it out, there was a knock on the door.

Spencer quirked her eyebrow, "Expecting anyone, brat?" she asked.

Emma shook her head and made her way towards the door. She opened it up only to reveal a small boy. He was young, probably ten or eleven years old. He had dark hair, pointed, aristocratic features, and beautiful, familiar eyes.

"Uh..." she blinked, "Can I help you?"

The boy looked up, his green eyes twinkling in anticipation, "Are you Emma Swan?"

Emma frowned, "Yeah," she said, "Who are you?"

A wide grin spread across the kid's face, "My name's Henry. I'm your son." The kid ducked under Emma's arm, and walked into the apartment.

Spencer spat out her wine, "What?" she yelped.

Emma ignored her, "Whoa!" she exclaimed, shutting the door behind him, "Hey kid! I don't have a son. Where's your parents?"

"Huh," Spencer said, peering at the kid. She tilted her head in thought, finishing up her alcoholic beverage and pouring herself and her sister another helping.

"Ten years ago," Henry said, "Did you give a baby up for adoption?"

Emma just stared at Henry, not saying a word. Spencer got up, made her way around the bar and put her hands on the kids shoulders. She leaned down and looked him over. For some reason the kid didn't seem to mind her strange behavior.

"That was me," he said, looking at Emma, ignoring Spencer's gaze.

Emma turned pale before running into the bathroom and locking the door behind her.

Henry turned his attention to Spencer and grinned up at her, "Who're you?" he asked, apparently not taking offense to anything.

"Avery Spencer," she said, still peering at him inquisitively, "Emma's big sister."

The kid's eyes widened, "You're Avery?" he demanded excitedly.

Spencer stepped back and gave the kid a bow, "At your service," she said with a flourish.

"That's awesome!" Henry exclaimed, "You're in my book!"

Avery straightened abruptly and frowned, "I'm in a book?" she asked, bewilderedly.

Henry nodded enthusiastically and pulled said book out out of his backpack. He set it down on the island, flipped through the pages, and once he found the right one, showed it to her. Spencer stepped up closer and pulled the book towards her, still staring at the young boy. Finally she peered down at the pictures. Her eyes widened and all of a sudden she started flipping through the pages furiously.

"Where did you get this?" Spencer demanded, looking down at the familiar stories in disbelief.

Henry grinned, "I found it," he told her.

She looked up at Henry with wide eyes, "You just found it?" she asked incredulously, "Where?"

"My teacher gave it to me," he said, and then in a whisper added, "I think she's Snow White."

"Snow White?" Avery asked softly.

Henry nodded with a victorious smile on his face. He was about to ask her if she believed him when Emma stalked out of the bathroom. She grabbed her wine and tipped the glass back. She tried to get Spemcer's attention but the older sister was too focused on Henry's book. Finally she sighed and looked over at Henry.

He just smiled and said, "We should probably get going."

"Going where?" Emma asked, somewhat dazedly.

"I want you to come home with me," Henry said, looking between the sisters, "Both you and Aunt Avery."

"Okay kid," Emma shook her head, heading for the phone, "I'm calling the cops."

Spencer jumped up from her perch and immediately went between her sister and the phone. This kid knew something and she couldn't have him toted away before she got to the bottom of where he got the book and why he thought his teacher was Snow White.

"Ems," she cooed, "Isn't that a bit extreme?"

Emma rolled her eyes at her older sister and pushed past her. She grabbed the phone and started dialing. Henry's eyes widened slightly in alarm, but he had a contingency plan. He just hoped it worked.

"And I'll tell them you kidnapped me," he said, inwardly sighing in relief when Avery sent him a discreet thumbs up.

Emma paused, "And they'll believe you because I'm your birth mother," she said putting down the phone.

"Yup!"

Spencer sighed in relief until what Emma said hit her. Her eyes widened, "So he is actually your kid?" she demanded, "Emma!"

Emma shushed her, before turning towards Henry smugly, "You're not going to do that," she told him.

"Try me," Henry retorted, crossing his arms over his chest.

Emma looked at Spencer, silently pleading with her to help but her older sister just snorted and crossed her arms over her chest, "Don't look at me," she said.

The younger woman sighed and knelt down in front of Henry, "You're pretty good," she admitted, "But here's the thing. There's not a lot I'm great at in life, but I have one skill. Call it a 'superpower'. I can tell when anyone is lying, and you, kid, are."

Henry took a step back, gulped and sent Emma a pleading look, "Wait," he said, "Please don't call the cops." Henry looked down, helplessly, "Please come home with me."

"And why should we do that?" Emma asked, quirking her eyebrow.

Henry swallowed, "I..." he didn't know what to say.

Emma eyed him for the longest time before sighing, "Where's home?" she asked, caving to his wide, puppy-dog eyes.

"Storybrooke, Maine." Henry said quickly, hoping that his mother was relenting.

"Seriously?" Emma asked, surprised by the strange name,

Spencer blinked before snorting, "Really?" she mumbled under her breath.

Henry nodded and then looked at Emma hopefully, "So?"

Emma looked at Spencer again, looking for an answer but all the older brunette did was shrug. Rolling her eyes, Emma decided her sister was useless. She finally agreed, making Henry cheer.

"Ooo! Let me get my bag," Spencer chirped, "We're taking the bug right?"

As Spencer started towards the door, Emma grabbed her sister's arm, halting her, "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Who said you're coming?" she asked, quirking her eyebrow in question.

Spencer shot her little sister a look, "Please, rampaging hippogriffs couldn't stop me," she said, pulling away from Emma and going downstairs.

On the way down to her car, she snagged her shoes from where she kicked them off and slipped them on. She crawled into her backseat, grabbed her duffle bag and after making sure that her car would stay safe, she made her way to Emma's old yellow VW. Spencer waited until the newly reunited mother-son duo came downstairs and once Emma unlocked her car, she ushered Henry into the back but before she got in herself, Emma stopped her.

"Don't get to attached," she warned p, knowing her sister and wanting to spare her,

Spencer snorted, "Too late," she said, before getting in.

Emma sighed but got in after them. Why Spencer being already attached surprised her, she had no idea. It was just like her older sister. One would think that they had different upbringings. Emma passed her sister her coat, since she left it upstairs, and started up the car.

"So," Spencer said, turning to see Henry with a smile, "Tell me about yourself."

Henry shrugged, "Not much to tell," he said.

"Oh please," she scoffed, "You're related to me. Of course you have something to tell."

Henry smiled, "Are you always so..."

"Arrogant...insufferable...annoying?" Emma supplied.

The kid shook his head, "Cool," was his description.

"Ha!" the eldest exclaimed, doing a little jig in her seat, "In your face Emma! I'm cool!"

Emma sighed, "Now you've done it," she moaned, "She'll be more annoying than ever."

Spencer stuck her tongue out at her sister before turning backwards once more, "Okay midget," she said, "Favorite color?"

Henry thought for a second, "Red," he said, with a nod.

His aunt smiled, "Me three," she said, "Favorite book?"

"My storybook," said Henry as though she should have already known that.

After a while, Henry's stomach growled, "I'm hungry," he announced, "Can we stop somewhere?"

Spencer suddenly felt the same, "I'm down for some fries," she said, looking at Emma.

But the young mother shook her head, "This is not a road trip," she informed them sternly, "I am not stopping for snacks."

Spencer groaned, "Oh come on!" she exclaimed, "I've been traveling all day!"

"Why not?" Henry asked, almost pouting.

Emma rolled her eyes, "Quit whining," she said, "You, I could still put on a bus, and you, you're thirty-seven. Act your age."

Henry scowled, "I have a name you know," he told her as his aunt grumbled unkind something under her breath, "It's Henry."

After a few moments of silence, Henry spoke up again, "If you're thirty-seven," he pointed out, "How come you look younger than my mom?"

Spencer just winked, "So, about that book of yours..."

"I'm not sure Emma's ready," he quickly interupted, eyeing the driver.

Spencer opened her mouth to argue but then realized that the kid was right.

Emma scoffed, "Not ready for some fairytales?" she asked, looking through the mirror at them as though they lost their minds.

Henry narrowed his eyes, "They're not just fairytales," he exclaimed, "They're true. Every story in this book actually happened."

Under her breath, "Of course they did," Emma commented, rolling her eyes.

Henry looked hurt by her comment but plowed on, "Use your superpower," he said, "See if I'm lying."

Spencer glared at Emma, "Don't take what she says to heart Hen," she said sternly, sounding like the older sister she was, "Emma a skeptic."

"Just because you believe something doesn't make it true," Emma said to them both.

"But thats exactly what makes it true," Henry protested, "You should know more than anyone."

Emma sighed, "And why is that?"

"Because you're in this book," he said, holding it up, "You and Aunt Avery."

"Oh kid," Emma said, "You've got problems."

Henry nodded, "And you're going to fix them." he said before turning towards Spencer, "Aunt Avery?"

Spencer turned her head towards Henry, "Hmmm?"

"Your age?" he prompted, and Spencer relented.

"Well according to your book..." she began, but was interrupted by her sister's disbelieving snort.

"The book?" Emma asked, disbelievingly, "What do you know about Henry's book?"

"Hen showed it to me while you were wallowing in the bathroom," she told her sister dismissively, "Anyway, according to the book, our mother made a deal so that I'd stop aging at 25."

Emma rolled her eyes, "Oh please."

"And for all the nonbelievers," she said, looking pointedly at Emma before winking at Henry playfully, "I moisturize."

Henry looked excited, "So wait," he exclaimed, hopefully, "You believe?"

She smiled at her nephew, "Of course I do," she exclaimed, "If you believe it, than so do I. Besides, your book is very compelling."

Henry smiled, and grabbed Spencer's hand, "Thank you," he whispered, feeling amazing now that someone actually believed him.

Emma glanced back at her son's beaming grin. He was beautiful and when he smiled like that, he reminded her of his father. Her heart skipped a beat and she readjusted her grip on the steering wheel. As much as she hated this situation, it was nice to see that if she kept her baby, her sister would have gotten along with him like a house on fire. She just hoped that once they left Henry with his actual family, that her sister wouldn't be too hurt. It was better to keep a distance, but she saw that it was already too late for Avery.

Henry suddenly exclaimed that they needed to exit and slowly started directing them towards his hometown. Spencer protested that the map said there was nothing there, but Henry was adamant. Finally they saw the 'Welcome to Storybrooke' sign. Emma drove straight past it, not noticing her sister's abrupt shiver. Spencer gasped and looked at Henry with wide eyes. He nodded knowingly and grinned.

"Welcome to Storybrooke, Aunt Avery," he whispered to her.

When they got into town, Emma and Spencer couldn't help but wonder what kind of town Storybrooke was. It seemed like everything was trapped in the 80s. It had the quintessential small town vibe, but at the same time, Spencer felt like it was almost stepfordish. They drove past Gold's Pawn Shop and spotted an old fashioned diner not too far in the distance.

"Okay, kid," Emma suddenly asked, "How about an address?"

Henry's response was immediate, "Forty-four, not-telling-you street," he said, earning a snort from his aunt.

Emma shot her sister a look before pulling off to the side. She got out of the car and looked at Henry, "Look, it's been a long night," she growled, "And it's almost..."

"It can't be only eight-fifteen," Spencer exclaimed completely aghast, looking up at the clocktower, "I'm too tired for eight-fifteen."

"That clock hasn't moved my whole life," he told the sisters, "Time's frozen here."

"Excuse me?" "Really?"

The kid nodded, "The Evil Queen did it with her curse," he said, "She sent everyone from the Enchanted Forest here. That's probably why grandma made a deal to keep you young."

"Hang on," Emma said, before Spencer could speak, "The Evil Queen sent a bunch of fairytale characters here?"

"Yeah. And now they're trapped."

"Frozen in time, stuck in Storybrooke, Maine." Emma summed up, "That's what you're going with?"

"It's true!"

Spencer nodded, "Makes sense to me," she commented, and then thoughtfully added, "Except for the being in Maine part. If I were the Evil Queen, I would have settled in Hawaii or in the south of France, maybe even Australia."

"Then why doesn't everybody just leave?" Emma asked, trying to point out the obvious, ignoring her sister's rambling.

Henry shook his head again, "They can't," he informed his mom solemnly, "If they try, bad things happen."

"Henry!"

Emma and Spencer turned around to see who was calling for their temporary charge. The man looked half-relieved as he charged over with his dalmatian. Spencer eyed him, trying to identify the man using her limited knowledge of Disney.

"What are you doing here?" the man asked, looking at the newcomers suspiciously, "Is everything all right?"

Henry nodded, "I'm fine, Archie," he said, petting the man's dog.

Still suspicious, Archie asked, "Who're your friends, Henry?"

Afraid that the man would think that her and her sister were kidnappers or something else suspicious, Emma quickly informed him that they were just trying to give Henry a ride home. She half hoped that this Archie would take Henry off her hands.

"She's my mom, Archie," Henry said nodding towards the sisters respectively, "And she's my Aunt."

"Oh," the man said, startled by Henry's information, "I see."

Spencer waved at the guy, "I'm Spencer and she's Emma."

"You know where he lives?" Emma interjected, having enough of the small talk.

Spencer shot her sister a small glare before smiling at Archie, "If it's not too much trouble to ask," she added.

Archie nodded, "Yeah, sure," he said, returning Spencer's smile, "Just uh...right up on Mifflin Street; the Mayor's house is the biggest one on the block."

"You're the mayor's kid?" Emma cried out, looking at Henry for an answer.

Spencer, still trying to be polite, thanked Archie for his help.

"Oh sure," Archie said, "No problem."

"Well then," Spencer said, awkwardly, "We'll just be out of your hair then. I..."

"Hey," Archie suddenly asked, looking at the ten year old, "Where were you today, Henry, because you missed our session."

Henry tried to smile, "Oh, I forgot to tell you," he tried, "I went on a field trip."

Spencer bit her lip, wondering just when the kid's phenomenal oratory skills went down the drain. Apparently lying wasn't genetic. She watched as Archie crouched down in front of Henry and looked into the boy's eyes.

"Henry, what'd I tell you about lying?" he asked, solemnly, "Giving in to one's dark side never accomplishes anything."

Spencer and Emma exchanged wide-eyed looks, "O-kay!," the younger of them suddenly interrupted, clapping her hands together a la Spencer, "Well, I really should be getting him home."

Spencer nodded in agreement, "It's late," she added quickly, intent on getting Henry away from Archie before he started on some sort of darkness tangent, "And I'm sure Hen has school in the morning."

As though suddenly remembering that Emma and Spencer were there, he glanced at them quickly before standing up, "Yeah. Sure. Well..." he cleared his throat, "Have a good night, and uh... you be good, Henry."

As Archie walked way, Spencer made her way over to Emma's side of the car, "So that was weird," she commented bluntly.

Emma nodded in agreement, "Was that your shrink?" she asked, looking at her kid.

"I'm not crazy." was Henry's immediate response.

Spencer snickered, "You know," she teased, "Only crazy people say that."

Henry glared at his aunt, but didn't take offense. He knew she believed him. Now if Emma said that...

"Spencer," Emma sighed, "Just..." She paused, wondering how to put it, "He doesn't seem cursed to me." She turned to Henry, "Maybe he's just trying to help you."

Spencer looked at her sister incredulously, "Really?" she demanded, "Did we not just have the same encounter? Who actually says that? I mean giving into your dark side? What? Are we in a Star Wars movie or something?"

Henry nodded in agreement,"He's the one who needs help. Because he doesn't know."

"That he's a fairytale character." Emma finished dryly.

Emphatically Henry proclaimed, "None of them do. They don't remember who they are."

The blonde crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her head, "Convenient," she muttered before sighing, " All right. I'll play." She opened the backdoor and waved Henry inside, "Who's he supposed to be?"

Spencer looked at Henry expectantly. She couldn't figure it out, not with her current level of knowledge. It was probably obvious, but the answer was dancing out of her reach.

"Jiminy Cricket!" the youngest of the trio exclaimed.

Spencer snapped, "Duh!" she slapped herself in the forehead, "The lying thing."

Emma smirked, "Thought your nose grew a little bit," she commented with a small snicker.

Henry looked offended, "I'm not Pinocchio!" he cried out.

"He's not Pinocchio!" Spencer exclaimed at the same time.

Emma rolled her eyes as she started the car, "'Course you're not," she agreed and then under her breath said, "'Cause that would be ridiculous."

Spencer nodded, "It totally would be," she informed her sister, "Pinocchio didn't come over with the curse."

"He didn't?" Henry asked, surprised.

Emma ignored them. If Spencer wanted to play along than all the power to her. He was almost home and a quick game of imagination wouldn't hurt him in the long run. How she became an authority on a book she only read for a few minutes, however, was beyond Emma.

"He came with us in the Enchanted tree," Spencer said, "I have him on Facebook."

Henry's eyes widened, "Really?" he asked, and then frowned, "What's Facebook?"

She turned around to look at her nephew again, "What's Facebook!" she demanded, "Really? Next you'll be asking me what's Harry Potter."

Henry blinked, "What is Harry Potter?" he asked interestedly.

"Stop the car!" Spencer suddenly shouted.

Emma, used to her sister's abruptness, scoffed, "No."

"How do you not know about Harry Potter?" Spencer asked looking at Henry crazily.

Henry gulped and shrugged, "I..."

She turned back around and crossed her arms before announcing that, "This place really is cursed."

"Mifflin Street," Emma said to the dead silence of the car.

Henry was pouting because he was going home and Spencer was pouting because her poor nephew had been deprived of the wonder that was Harry Potter. She was mentally figuring out how to catch the poor kid up on all that was good and wonderful in the modern world.

"This is your stop kid," Emma said, parking in front of the biggest house.

Henry looked out the window forlornly, "Please don't take me back," he begged, looking up at Emma with the same eyes he used to get her to come to Storybrooke.

Emma grabbed his hand and started dragging him towards the door. Spencer hesitantly got out. She had a bad feeling all of a sudden. She slowly joined the duo as they head up the front path.

"I have to," Emma argued, "I'm sure your parents are worried sick about you."

"I don't have parents," he argued, "I just have a mom, and she's-evil."

Spencer froze but Henry and Emma continued on. Her mind raced, trying to think of who else in the cursed world who could be considered evil but unfortunately that list did not come up with many female names.

"Evil," Emma wondered, "That's a bit extreme, isn't it?"

"She is," Henry shook his head, "She doesn't love me; she only pretends to."

Spencer quickly caught up to them, "Henry, who's your mom?" she asked, hesitantly.

"Kid," Emma spoke over her sister, as the front door opened, revealing a sharply dressed woman and a man in a waistcoat and leather jacket, "I'm sure that's not true."

Spencer stopped in her tracks again and stared up at the woman in horror. She reached forward and tried to grab her sister but Emma had already stepped out of her range. The dark haired beauty gulped and slowly backed away towards the car, praying that she hadn't been noticed or worse, recognized.

"Henry? Oh! Henry!" Regina raced towards the young boy and started firing questions at him, squeezing the poor boy tightly.

Spencer bit her lip, worried about her newfound nephew, especially when he started wiggling out of the woman's grasp and pulled away from her. People did not just pull away from Regina and live to tell the tale.

"I found my real mom!" he cried, drawing attention to Emma as he bolted inside the house.

Regina took a moment to observe Emma before crossing her arms over her chest, "You're Henry's birth mother?" she demanded, her tone almost menacing, at least it seemed so to Spencer.

The man must have made some sort of excuse because as soon as he finished talking, he bolted straight back inside. Spencer watched as her sister and Regina sized each other up, Emma as the birth mother and Regina as the adoptive one. Suddenly the latter woman plastered a pleasant smile on her face, and invited Emma in. Spencer watched helplessly as her little sister accepted the invitation and stepped past the threshold. Regina seemed to mention something to Emma about her because the blonde tried to wave her inside but Spencer immediately shook her head, plastering her own smile on her face. No way was she entering Regina's domain. The red door shut ominously and Spencer immediately started berating herself. She should have never let Emma inside the house, alone with Henry's adoptive mother.

Pulling out her phone, Spencer immediately scrolled through her contacts until she found the right number and hit call. The phone rang until his voicemail picked up.

"Gnocchi," she said, "I found them and Emma's alone with Her. Call me back now."

She hung up and slipped her phone back into her pocket. Spencer shivered and quickly pulled her trench coat across her chest. She looked around and gulped. She was all alone. Without further ado, she jumped back into the car, and slammed the door behind her. Spencer pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. She lay her head on her knees and glanced back at the house. After a moment, she spotted Henry looking out, what she assumed was, his bedroom window.

He caught her eye and started gesturing. It took her a moment to decipher, but once she glanced back, and spotted the storybook in the backseat, she understood. Henry left his book so that Emma would have no choice but to stay in town if only to return his favorite book. She nodded and shot the kid a thumbs up, earning one of Henry's beaming grins. Her panic faded a bit with a new mission in place.

When Emma finally came out, she seemed completely unharmed. A bit upset, but otherwise unscathed. She got into the driver's seat and started the engine.

"So Henry's mother is a bit of a hard ass," Emma said, "Started interrogating me right off the bat. She asked me if I actually intended on taking Henry away from her. As if I had a choice in meeting the kid."

Spencer put her feet down and licked her lips nervously, "Henry did tell us that she was evil," she pointed out.

"Oh come on," Emma scoffed, "She's not evil. Like I said hard ass, and probably strict as hell, but not evil. The kid believes that he lives in a town of fairytale characters. He's not exactly the best judge."

Spencer narrowed her eyes at her sister, "Watch your mouth Emma," she snapped, "He's your son."

Emma shook her head, "I don't have a son," she said immediately.

Spencer rolled her eyes, "Then he's my nephew," she said, "Whatever. All I'm saying is that you shouldn't be so narrow-minded. Kids know more than you think they do."

"Sorry," Emma drawled, drawing the word out.

Spencer narrowed her eyes, "Speaking of whom," she said, "Why didn't you tell me Henry existed?"

Emma huffed, "It wasn't really any of your business," she said, turning onto the road out of town.

Spencer looked at her sister incredulously, "Are you kidding?" she demanded, "You were pregnant! He's my nephew! How is that not my business?"

Emma snorted, "We weren't exactly talking when I had the baby," she said scornfully.

"And who's fault was that?" Spencer snarked, "I tried to keep in touch. You're the one who refused my phone calls and letters. You're the one who ran away and didn't tell me where you went."

Emma's derision faded, "You're right," she sighed, "You're right."

Spencer settled back in her seat and leaned her head back. She stared at the ceiling before deciding to implement Henry's plan. She glanced back obviously.

"Huh," she commented.

Emma twisted to see what her sister found so interesting, but since the book was directly behind her, she couldn't see, "What?"

"Your kid got his deviousness from me," she informed her sister with a smirk, stretching back to grab the book.

When Spencer pulled it to the front, Emma shook her head half impressed, half exasperated, "Sneaky bastard," she muttered, eyeing the storybook.

"Look out!" Spencer suddenly screeched.

Emma looked up just in time to see a wolf standing in the middle of the road. She yanked the wheel to the side and all of a sudden the car swerved. Spencer drew the book to her chest as if to protect it, and extended her left arm across Emma's chest as if to protect her. The world slowed down around her. One minute the car was crashing into the 'Welcome to Storybrooke' sign, her sister pinned to the driver's seat, and the next, everything was black.

When Spencer woke up, she was greeted with a strange beeping. She whined and tried to lift her hand to shut it off but a sharp shooting pain interrupted her progress. She yelped, and her eyes shot open. Her forearm was wrapped in a hard cast.

"Easy there," soothed a familiar voice.

Spencer quickly turned her head to see who just spoke but her neck suddenly spasmed and she closed her eyes in pain, "Ow!"

"Take it easy," the woman warned her once again, "You were just in a car accident."

Spencer swallowed, "Wha..." she grimaced at her raspy voice.

"Here," the woman said, holding a straw to her lips, "Take a small sip."

Spencer easily complied, but once she took a small sip, suddenly she was ravenous for more. She started taking longer pulls of the straw until the cup of water was yanked away.

"You don't believe in moderation," the woman said, her voice sounding slightly amused, "Do you?"

Spencer started to shake her head before remembering the whiplash, "No," she then said, "Moderation's for losers." She slowly sat up, allowing the woman to help. Her eyes were still half closed, "What's wrong with me?" She was finally able to ask.

"Do you want me to get the doctor?" the woman asked.

Spencer sighed and was about to tell the woman to just get on with telling her when she finally saw just who had been helping her. Suddenly her voice just failed her and her eyes started to water.

"I'll go get the doctor then," the woman told her with a smile, before getting up and walking away.

Finally she was able to croak, "Mama?" she whispered, but no one heard her.

Eventually She came back accompanied by a nurse, "Welcome back Ms. Spencer," the nurse greeted, "You gave us quite the scare."

Spencer swallowed, her eyes darting between the nurse and the woman who looked just like her mother, "How long have I been asleep?" she asked.

"Just over night," the nurse told her absently while checking her vitals, "The sheriff brought you in."

She decided to focus solely on the nurse, "What's wrong with me?" she asked quietly, gesturing to her arm as though to show an example.

"Well other than the obvious," the nurse smiled, "Unconsciousness. You're left arm was broken, you're suffering from whiplash and you have a grade two concussion. Now I ask that you try and stay awake for at least the next 12 hours so that you don't fall into a coma."

The nurse walked then walked away, leaving Spencer alone with the other woman. She sat down in her chair and shot Spencer a big, familiar smile.

"I'm Mary Margaret," she introduced herself, "I volunteer here at the hospital from time to time."

Spencer tried to smile, but it fell short, "Avery," she replied, not even noticing that she didn't give Mary Margaret her preferred name.

The volunteer smiled, "I've always liked that name," she said, "It reminds me of my mother's."

Spencer gulped nervously before a sudden thought hit her, "My sister!" she suddenly exclaimed, "Where's my sister? Emma? She was in the car..."

Mary Margaret immediately put her hand on Spencer's, her familiar warmth soothing the distraught woman, "She's unhurt," she said, "Arrested, but unhurt."

"Arrested?" Spencer rasped, confused, "Why was she arrested?"

Mary Margaret shrugged, "That's all I know," she admitted.

Spencer immediately tried to sit out and get out of bed but Mary Margaret stopped her. She stood up, placed her hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her back down into the mattress.

"Where do you think you're going?" she asked, making Spencer freeze at the familiar demand.

She looked up at the other woman sheepishly, "To check on my sister," she tried.

Mary Margaret shook her head, "Not in your state," she scolded, "You just woke up after being injured in a car accident. You need your rest. Your sister will be fine. She certainly won't thank you if you fall unconscious half way between the hospital and the police station."

Spencer shrunk back, "Yes mom," she whispered, and upon realizing what she said, her eyes grew comically wide in panic.

Luckily Mary Margaret took it as a joke, "I was a bit forceful there, wasn't I?" she asked rhetorically with a small chuckle, "I'm a teacher. That tone comes naturally."

Spencer perked up at the tidbit of information, "You're really a teacher?" she asked, before biting her lip, "Do you have children of your own?"

Mary Margaret shook her head, "Not biologically," she said sadly before determinedly adding, "But I consider all my students to be my own. Speaking of which..."

"What?"

Mary Margaret looked up at the clock, "I should probably get going. My students can't teach themselves," she joked.

Spencer nodded a bit sadly, "Right."

The school teacher frowned at Spencer's tone. She assumed that Spencer didn't like hospitals and quickly assured her, "I'll be back later this afternoon," she patted her hand, "Why don't you get some sleep? Time will fly by and I'll be back before you know it."

"Oh I wouldn't want to impose," was the younger woman's quick reply, "Besides I'm sure my sister will find her way here sooner of later."

"It's really no problem," Mary Margaret said, "Besides, I like you, Avery. You remind me of someone."

Spencer smiled, "You should get going," she was barely able to get out, "It's half-seven and you don't want to be late."

Mary Margaret left after once again assuring the patient that she'd be back after school. Spencer curled up in her bed, careful not to injure herself further, her mind racing with what just happened. When she finally had enough of her thoughts, she summoned a nurse and asked if she'd be allowed to walk around a bit. It took some finesse but she was finally able to convince her nurse that walking around would do her some good. She slipped on a pair of slippers, pulled another hospital gown over her back to protect her modesty, and started exploring the floor.

It was strange. While the hospital and equipment itself looked contemporary, the nurses were walking around in old fashioned white dresses and those strange caps. She walked past the vending machines, explored the waiting room until finally she decided to go to the coma ward. She was curious to see who had been deemed dangerous enough to curse into everlasting unconsciousness.

Spencer followed the signs until she made it to the right part of the hospital. It seemed empty but when she really looked around, she noticed that one of the rooms was actually occupied. She slowly made her way over to the room, following the familiar sounds of the heart monitor. Spencer then peaked through the window to see who it was.

"Papa?" she whispered in horror.

She quickly stepped into the room and stared at the comatose man. It was him, really really him. She sat down at his bedside, forgetting all about her IV pole, and grabbed the man's hand.

"Papa," she whispered. Spencer leaned forward and lay her forehead on his shoulder, closing her eyes, "Wake up."

"Ms. Spencer," she suddenly heard, "What are you doing here? We've been looking everywhere for you."

Spencer slowly sat up, and looked back at one of the nurses. She swallowed, "I'm sorry. I must have lost track of time."

The nurse frowned, "Do you know our Mr. John Doe?" she asked, noticing how tightly Spencer was clenching his hand.

She was quiet for the longest time, considering her answer, not realizing that she already, instinctively, nodded yes.

The nurse gasped, "Well then who is he?" she asked, eager for gossip before remembering her place, "Actually, wait here, I'll go get the Doctor."

Spencer turned towards the man once more, and gently stroked his cheek. It was too late to back out now. She briefly considered what to tell them before deciding that she would claim him as their foster brother, David White. Emma couldn't contest seeing as she was too young to remember some of their earlier homes and this way if he happened to wake up or made a turn for the worse, she'd know.

"Nurse Childe says that you know the identity of our John Doe."

Spencer turned around and stood up, still clenching David's hand, "His name is David, David White." she lied, "He's my foster brother."

Spencer forced the Doctor to keep her gaze, mentally willing the man to believe her. After a bit, he finally grinned, "Well then," he said, "This is good news. If you could please follow the nurse, she has some paperwork for you to fill out. It'd be nice to finally have some real, concrete information on John...I mean Mr. White."

Spencer shot David a longing glance before sighing and following Nurse Childe back to her bed. On the way, the nurse was asked several questions about David from his full name to whether or not Spencer knew of any medical conditions or allergies. When the nurse was finally done questioning her, she started asking Spencer about her own medical history as well. When the interrogation was over, Spencer was mentally exhausted and ready for the luxurious reprieve of unconsciousness. Unfortunately for her plans but fortunately for her health, Emma arrived.

"Spence!" she cried out, spotting her dozing sister, "I was so worried!" She leaned forward and hugged her tightly, ignoring their less affection is more policy.

Spencer grunted in pain, "Okay Emma," she said, her voice strained, "You can let go now."

Emma immediately jumped away, "Oh shit!" she swore, "Did I hurt you?"

Spencer shook her head, "I'm fine," she said, "Just a few aches and bruises."

"A few..." Emma sent her sister a look, "You have a cast!"

Spencer's eyes widened, "I do?" she asked, looking at her arm as though she hadn't noticed it's broken state before, "Oh my god! I have a cast!"

Emma rolled her eyes, "How is it that I walked away with barely a scratch and you end up in the hospital?" she asked, looking her sister over. She pulled Spencer's phone out of her pocket, having rescued it, and set it on the nightstand besides her.

Spencer shrugged, "Magic maybe?" she suggested, sending her sister a teasing grin.

"Right," was Emma's dry response.

Spencer snickered, "So, I heard you were arrested," she said, changing the nodded, having long stopped questioning how her sister knew what she shouldn't have known, "Apparently the wolf in the middle of the road was a figment of my drunk imagination," she drawled mockingly.

Her sister tutted, "You should have never accepted a drink, especially from your son's mother. She probably poisoned it or something."

Emma rolled her eyes, "It was just apple cider, I..."

"Apple!" Spencer yelped, "Emma what did I tell you about apples in our family."

Once again her younger sister rolled her eyes, "Anyway, I didn't have to spend much time behind bars," Emma continued her story.

"Unlike last time," Spencer interjected playfully.

"Because," Emma carried on as though Spencer hadn't said anything, "Regina lost her son again. They let me out so I could track the kid down."

"So where was he?" Spencer asked, already knowing that Emma found him. She had faith in her sister's finding people skills.

Emma kicked up her feet on Spencer's bed, "His castle," she said, but then looked away absentmindedly.

Spencer frowned, "What is it?" she asked, sensing her sister's unease.

Emma bit her lip, "Remember all those stories you used to tell me about why our parents abandoned us?"

Spencer sighed, "I told you," she said, "They didn't abandon us."

Emma sighed, "Henry has the same theory," she continued, and then scoffed, "Apparently they sent us through a magical wardrobe to save us from the curse that plagues this town."

Spencer bit her lip, knowing from experience that anything she had to say about this topic would get her head bitten off. "Some coincidence," she muttered, knowing that was what Emma wanted to hear.

Finally Emma just shook her head and sent her sister a foxed smile, "So how long are you going to stay in the hospital?"

Spencer shrugged, "They didn't tell me," she said.

Emma quirked her eyebrow, "And you didn't ask?" She asked, knowing that was completely unlike her sister. Spencer hated being in the hospital.

"I was a bit distracted," she bit out, thinking about David.

"By what?"

"I..." Spencer looked at Emma, "I found someone."

"Let me guess," Emma said dryly, "Our long lost father."

Spencer wanted to say yes but instead, she figured that she'd tell Emma what she told the Doctor, "Actually it was one of our foster brothers, David White," she said, "He's in a coma. They didn't know who he was until I IDed him."

"David White?" Emma asked skeptically, not recognizing the name,

"You were barely three the last time we saw him," Spencer said, "I don't expect you to remember him. But we were close."

"If its been that long," Emma pointed out, "How'd you recognize him?"

Spencer smiled, "We found each other in college," she said, "David studied as a vet tech while I got my degree in Anthropology."

"You've never mentioned him," Emma said.

Thinking back to the car ride, Spencer couldn't help but sneer, "It wasn't any of your business."

Emma raised her hands up in surrender, "Fair enough," she said, dropping the subject, "So..."

Spencer sighed, "I'm sorry Ems."

Emma nodded, "Me too," she said quietly, "I should have told you."

"I wish you did," Spencer said, "Maybe things could have turned out differently." She briefly humored the thought of raising Henry with Emma, having a life together, "But no use pondering over could have beens."

Emma but her lip, "I..." she gulped, "I didn't think...You really...?"

Spencer looked at Emma as though the girl was crazy, "Without a doubt," she said firmly.

Emma blinked rapidly, "Oh."

The sisters sat in silence.

"Avery!" they suddenly heard, "Emma!"

They both turned their heads towards the entrance where Mary Margaret was walking towards them. The other woman smiled and quickly pulled another chair up to Spencer's bedside.

Emma frowned, "You two know each other?" she asked.

Spencer nodded, "She was there when I woke up," she told Emma.

"I didn't realize you two were sisters," Mary Margaret commented, "But I should have realized. We don't get many visitors in town. Now, Avery, how are you feeling?"

"Better," she answered, "Tired but less achey."

Emma blinked, "You call her Avery?" she asked with wide eyes.

Mary Margaret frowned, "That is her name," she said.

Spencer waved her sister off, "Ignore her," she said.

"But she's Spencer," Emma protested, feeling territorial.

"Spencer?"

Spencer sighed, "Most people, I prefer to call me Spencer," she admitted, shooting Emma a glare, "But you can call me Avery."

"But if you prefer..."

"Nope," Spencer shook her head, "You're calling me Avery. No arguments."

A small smile crept across Mary Margaret's face, "Alright then," she agreed, "You're the one in the hospital bed."

Spencer nodded, "Darn right," she said, watching her language.

Emma blinked at the censorship but rolled with it, "So," she said, "I'm thinking about staying in town."

Spencer smirked, "What happened to don't get too attached?" she queried with a knowing grin.

"Shut up," was Emma's genius come back.

Mary Margaret smiled, "Oh Henry would be so happy," she said, "He really wants to get to know you."

Emma slowly nodded, "I just want to make sure that he's alright," she admitted, "does that sound weird?"

"Not at all," was Mary Margaret's contribution,

Spencer shrugged, "Only if you let it," she smirked, "Besides, I was going to stay anyway. I have vacation time. I was going to spend time with you because of your birthday, but getting to know my baby neffy-poo is time much better spent."

"Hey!"

Spencer shrugged, "You're old news," she said, earning a swat.

"You two are very close," Mary Margaret observed.

Spencer nodded, "We have nine years between us," she said, "So I practically raised this brat."

"Nine years?" Mary Margaret asked, "You raised Emma? I thought you were the younger of the two."

Emma sighed, "Yeah, we get that a lot," she said, "Spence here got all the young genes. You would never think that she's almost forty."

Mary Margaret blinked, "Forty? Really? I would have pegged you for 25, maybe thirty."

"My mother made me a deal for eternal youth," she said with a smirk, making Mary Margaret laugh.

"Lucky you," she teased.

Spencer grinned lazily, "It has its uses," she admitted, buffing her nails.

Emma wrinkled her nose, "And on that note," she stood up, "I should probably find us a room."

"Widow Lucas has a bed and breakfast down the street from her diner," Mary Margaret suggested, "She doesn't get many customers so it should have vacancies."

Emma nodded, "Thanks," she said, kissing her sister on the forehead, "I'll be back tomorrow."

Spencer nodded and watched as Emma left. She smiled and invited Mary Margaret to sit in Emma's vacant seat. It had a better vantage.

"So," Spencer smiled, "Mary Margaret, you're a volunteer here. Tell me about it."

"Well," she started, "I spend most of my time keeping patients company so they don't get too lonely. I also bring flowers from Mr. French's floral shop to brighten this place up. It's so...white in here."

Spencer snickered, "Its a hospital," she pointed out, "White means clean."

Mary Margaret pouted, "Well it gives me hives," she said.

She laughed, "What else?" she prodded, thinking about David. If she knew her mother...

Mary Margaret bit her lip, "I also visit the coma patients," she admitted, earning a knowing smile from Spencer, "Especially the John Doe."

"Oh you're so his type," Spencer blurted out abruptly.

"What?"

"David," Spencer clarified sheepishly. She didn't mean to say that out loud...not really, "If he were awake, he'd adore you." Might as well roll with it.

Mary Margaret raised her eyebrows in surprise, "You know our John Doe?" she asked.

"David White," she nodded, "He's my foster brother."

"Oh!" Mary Margaret sounded excited, "Oh! Thats wonderful! He finally has a family, someone to actually miss him."

"If I knew he was in a coma," Spencer told her, "I would have tried to find him sooner. I'm glad he had you though."

Mary Margaret blushed, "I was just doing the right thing," she said.

Spencer wanted to say something about her being drawn to him, but didn't want to sound creepy. She assured Mary Margaret that not many people would spend time with comatose John Does and thanked her profusely for keeping him company.

"Speaking of which," Mary Margaret said, "I should probably go say hi."

"Aunt Avery!"

Spencer laughed, "Go ahead," she encouraged, "I won't be lacking company."

"Aunt Avery!" Henry cried out, "Are you okay?"

Spencer leaned over the side and engulfed her new nephew in a side hug, "Hey Hen," she chirped, "What are you doing here?"

He pulled Mary Margaret's chair closer to the bed and knelt on it, leaning over her, "Mom told me you were here," he announced with wide eyes.

"Mom as in..."

"Regina not Emma," Henry clarified, looking his aunt over.

She pulled the boy unto the bed and cuddled the wide-eyed boy close, "I'm fine baby boy," she assured him, kissing his forehead, "I'm alright."

He nuzzled his face into her side, "Don't do that," he said pathetically like a kitten, "You're the only one who believes in me."

She stroked his cheek, and ran her hand through his hair, "I'm sorry kit," she apologized, "I'll be more careful in the future. On the bright side, now Emma has to stay in town, at least until I get better."

"I thought the curse would be broken already," he admitted forlornly.

Spencer sighed, "Hen," she said, "Curses are complicated feats of magic. Most are almost impossible to break. The only sure fire way to break a curse is true love's kiss."

Henry looked at her in awe, "You know about magic?"

Spencer checked for eavesdroppers, "I have magic," she admitted with a smile, "What?"

Henry sat up, "You actually remember!" he realized.

Spencer quickly shushed him and dragged him back down to her side, "I came through the wardrobe with baby Emma," she said, drolly, "What do you think?"

Henry sat up again, "It's real!" he exclaimed, and then remembering that it was supposed to be a secret, he repeated, "It's real!", only quieter.

"Not only that," she chuckled, "But I found your grandpa."

"Where?" Henry asked, looking around as though the man was going to jump out and proclaim, 'here I am'.

Spencer pulled Henry back down again and kissed his forehead. He snuggled up to her, feeling even closer to his aunt now. Not only had she been affectionate with him from the start, but she believed in him when no one else had and she was being completely upfront with him without prompting.

"Hen," she started, "I know you're super excited about this, but I'm afraid you're going to have to keep it a secret for now. If Regina knew we were onto her..." She trailed off, and then sent Henry a smile, "Anyway, shouting about curses in this world is crazy talk. No one would believe us and then we'd have to prove them right from behind the walls of this very hospital. And between you and me, that might prove to be a tad difficult."

Henry smiled at her joke but then frowned seriously, "I know," he admitted, "Everyone looks at me weird now."

"Oh Henry," Spencer pulled her nephew on top of her and hugged him tightly, "You're not crazy. It's really real. I promise."

Henry nodded, wiping away his silent tears. He plastered on a smile and asked about his grandfather. Spencer smiled at him before going into a long explanation of how she found him, claimed him and told everyone that he was her brother.

"That way if he starts waking up," Henry said, "They have to call you first."

Spencer grinned, "You get your smarts from me kit," she informed him, before launching into a tickle attack.

Henry cried out in giggles, and started flailing. Only when he narrowly missed his aunt's bruised ribs did she stop lest he inadvertently hurt her.

"Why do you call me kit?" Henry asked curiously once he calmed down.

Spencer shrugged, "No reason," she fibbed, not wanting to offend the poor boy's sensibilities by telling him that he reminded her of a kitten, "Now you should get back home before Regina," she shuddered minutely, "Send out another search party. We don,t want to make her suspicious."

Henry nodded, "Okay," he agreed, "We can talk more about Operation Cobra later."

Spencer quirked her brow, "Operation Cobra?" she sounded out.

Henry shrugged, "Operation 'Get-Emma-to-break-the-curse' isn't very secretive," he said, and Spencer immediately agreed, "Besides, it sounds cool."

Once Henry left, and Mary Margaret said her good byes after visiting David, she grabbed her phone and redialed the last number used. Luckily, he picked up this time.

"God Gnocchi," she exclaimed, "Don't you ever check your messages?"

"Avie?" He grumbled, half asleep.

She sighed, "Hopeless," she exclaimed.

"It's the middle of the night," he practically whined.

"Really?" she demanded, "My life is spinning out of control, I'm in the bloody hospital, and my sister is in the same town as our mother's arch nemesis. Why the hell should I care what time it is in Timbuktu?"

"Emma's what?"

She rolled her eyes, "Of course thats all you'd hear," she grumbled.

"Spencer," he snapped, "What's going on?"

"Emma Swan is in the Enchanted Forest 2.0," she summarized quietly, "And has finally met the Evil Queen."


End file.
